Adventures Of Harry Potter
by HMS Jones
Summary: ...Boy-Who-Lived To Be A Pain In A Certain TimeLords Arse And A Life-Long Ianto Fan. Harry raised by The Doctor, takes revenge and moans, in a three in one oneshot. AoHP 'verse


**A Doctor Who and Harry Potter Cross Over Fan Fiction.**

Title: Child of Time.

The boy sat there. He was barely one, yet sitting. His hair was jet black and his eyes were emerald green. He looked completely normal, if you exclude the fact he was sitting on a suspiciously clean street in a very dirty onsies suit looking at an extremely strange but oddly unnoticeable big blue box.

If you had cared to study the box you would have seen the opaque windows, of which there were two on each side and the curious name of 'POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX' painted in white letters also on each side. Some people might realise that this was a sort of portable jail used in the 1920's, others, part of a smaller more select group, would realise what it truly was.

A TARDIS.

The last known one in existence.

It had arrived in amidst a strange futuristic siren and a light that appeared and disappeared like the light of a lighthouse, circling the cliffs to give safe passage the sailors unlucky enough to get caught in stormy seas. The child sat there for a minute as if letting the box catch its breath, then, his eyes dancing with golden wisps of time, splayed a hand at the doors. They sprung open.

A man glanced up from the controls inside, his face the picture of pure shock.

"Dada!" called the baby.

"What? What?" Shouted the man  
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"Harry? Harry?" Called the Doctor, A.K.A Dada, "Stop fiddling with the controls! You'll break some something!"

The Doctor was a lean man, tall and thin. His hair was wild and his mouth was big. He always seemed to have an expression of child-like glee on his face – unless you got him angry. Then he was just plain scary. He wore a pinstripe suit, converse trainers and a worried frown.

Suddenly a spark flew. His frown melted away as the opening strains to The Beatles 'Yellow Submarine' echoed through the TARDIS.

A messy back haired child wigged his way out under the grills that made up the floor of the TARDIS, Dual hearts beating quickly at his Dad's signs of anger. He was nine years old and as dirty as sin. How, The Doctor didn't know, because he went under there all the time to fix things and came out as clean as ever. He gave up trying to rationalise the habit of getting dirty anywhere that children all seemed to have, no matter what race, and put it down to pure good luck.

Harry glared at him as he sat on the floor, completely affronted by his father beliefs of his ineptitude. Sighing as if put upon he said, "I won't break anything, Dad, have a little confidence in me!"

He then grinned innocently and finished off with "we aren't all as clumsy as you, now are we?"

The Doctors mouth flew open "Clumsy? Me? I think you are a little confused, my son!"

"Confused?" asked Harry, his tone sweet but his eyed narrowed to grass green slits. "Me? Who just routed the TARDIS, as in Time and Relative Dimensions in Space, to play The Beatles? Like a bleeding juke box?" He nodded, smug and amused as he shouted "Pah! PAH! Yes, good sir i did just pah you! Now if you'll excuse me, i have to get back to work."

The Doctor looked unimpressed, but Harry just turned and wiggled back under the grate, calling unabashedly "I'm trying to find 'I Am the Walrus!'"

The Doctor couldn't help but grin, his eyes dancing as Harry's were in the TARDIS's underbelly, "Oh, Can't argue with that! Love a good bit of The Beatles!

Unseen, Harry grinned back, "Quite right, too!"  
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"So...am I ever going to meet this Torchwood you keep on harping on about?! Because I swear if I don't get to and you keep on about it I may just kill you! If I didn't know better I'd say you had a crush on one of the employee's!" A good looking sixteen year old Harry Potter/Smith asked, as he walked with his father to Dumbledore's office to announce he fall of Voldemort (a fall that would stick this time, because as childish as his father may be, he didn't believe in leaving jobs half finished) "And I swear, it is all you talk about!" He put on a high falsetto voice "Oh, yes, Torchwood was all because of me and Rose, y'know? Aye, The Queen created it because of us! It always did strike me as odd how you spun it as if Torchwood wasn't created to combat you. Funny ole world, yeah?"

The Doctor had none of the grace to look guilty, instead just grinned. Laughing as he reminisced "oh, those were the good old days, I had Rose, and laughs and" he added, just to spite Harry with the fact that – yes, he had raised him, no, he hadn't forgotten the incident involving a rather lot of sick up, dirty nappy's and crying jags and yes, he did still have those pictures. "No torturing memories of raising a certain green eyed hellion."

Harry grinned back him, eyes saying thank you and _I_ _want those pictures exterminated!_ Then turned serious, " I would rather go to Torchwood than anywhere else in the Universe!...Or perhaps just that galaxy – Jack Harkness might be something to look at but I doubt he lives up to the karaoke bars in alleeonae sigma five!

The Doctor winced, he still had nightmares of that place, the strains of a Kaiopeesh (a Slitheen like creature, which is purple and a lot less boneless) trying to master the Old Earth classic of 'I Will Always Love You' haunting his mind.

He winced again as Harry announced in a chipper voice that they would go there tomorrow! Dad's opinion be damned! The Doctor hurried after him, saying in an accusing voice, "This has nothing to do with me! You just want to talk to Ianto Jones!"

Harry laughed, "So sue me! I'm a Ianto fan!"

The Doctor nodded, a happily resigned smile on his face "Can't argue with that! I'm a Ianto fan too!"

Because really? Who isn't?


End file.
